


lift your eyes, if you feel you can

by interstellarbeams



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: 20th Century, 2x07 speculation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, F/M, Love Confessions, jailbirds, mentions of Garcia Flynn, mentions of Jessica Logan, mentions of Rufus Carlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 00:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Wyatt and Lucy end up in another jail cell having a heart to heart in 1919 New York City.





	lift your eyes, if you feel you can

**Author's Note:**

> This is spoiler free, the only thing I've seen besides the title of the episode, is the promo photos, so this is strictly speculation. 
> 
> Thanks Logan ([angellwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings)) for looking this over and correcting my typos even when you aren't feeling well. This is dedicated to you lovely! *kiss*
> 
> Title and lyrics from _Lost in Love_ by Air Supply. Give it a listen if you want!

_you know you can't fool me_  
_i've been loving you too long_  
_it started so easy_  
_you want to carry on_  
   
_lost in love and i don't know much_  
_was i thinking aloud and fell out of touch?_ _but i'm back on my feet and eager to be what you wanted_  
_so lift your eyes if you feel you can_

  


\-----

“Well, this is a nice change of scenery.”

“It's a prison cell.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

Lucy rolled her eyes as she crossed the room to sit on the single cot, the only piece of furniture in the small cell besides a rickety two legged table with a glass globe kerosene lamp on it. 

It seems inevitable with them, that they end up in a jail cell, no matter what timeline they end up in or in what time period. 

Lucy crossed her arms with a huff, glaring at Wyatt’s back where he stood looking out through the bars. He glanced back at her as if he felt her irate look boring into him. 

“What?” Wyatt leaned back against the bars, crossing his own arms in front of him. 

“I don't know why you had to punch that policeman, now there isn't going to be anyone at the Women's Suffragette rally to give the speech.” Lucy tipped her head back against the cell wall, the worn brick pulling at the tangle of her hair that had fallen in the rioting tussle that they had just been forcibly removed from. 

Wyatt sighed. 

“You know _why_ I did it, don't act like you don’t.” He dropped his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, as he paced across the room to come and stand in front of her.

Even though she wasn't looking at him she could feel the force of his stare, like an annoying gnat that wouldn't leave you alone no matter how many times you swatted at it.

“Please stop staring at me,” Lucy pleaded, on a sigh.

“ _Lucy_. Lucy, _look at me_ ,” Wyatt begged, the loose mortar underfoot, crunching under his shoes as he crouched down in front of her. _Please_ , his silence seemed to speak, it was so full of unspoken apologies and pleas.

She wished she was stronger, she wished she could hold onto her anger -- at him, at their current situation, at time travel for putting them in this impossible position to begin with -- but she can't, not when he looks so rejected.

She turned her eyes towards his, the movement of her head against the brick wall making her wince as her hair pulls again. Maybe if she focuses on that pain and not on the more ferocious pain searing through her heart and throughout her extremities, she can get through this conversation.

“What?” She asks, when he doesn't speak for a moment, hardening her heart to the puppy dog eyes. _He knows what works for him, damn it._

“Lucy, come on, you can't be mad at me forever,” Wyatt dropped his head, staring at his hands, the absence of his wedding ring on his left hand doesn't get past her but she ignores it, too frustrated at him right now to even try and seem interested.

“I don't know,” she snapped back, “with how I feel right now, I think it seems pretty long term.”

He lifted his brilliant blue eyes to hers and despite the pain he was feeling she could tell he was trying to figure out how to ease her anger and get her to listen. That didn't make her feel much like forgiving him either. She knew she was being petty and immature but being the “bigger person” hadn't helped her either, if anything it had made her bitter. 

God, she didn't want to be one of _those_ people.

She struggled to contain the tears that threatened, her chin trembling in rebellion. She felt sorry for herself in that moment but she felt even worse about the situation that they had been thrust into -- him finally ready to move on and she had opened her heart, after so many years of failed dates and disastrous relationships. They let themselves fall and the rug got pulled out from under them as suddenly as the Lifeboat being brought back to the present time.

Wyatt reached for her hand and she allowed it, grateful that he was the anchor in her life despite the continuing rollicking seas of their relationship.

She could feel the warmth of his hand through her glove, the beautiful fanned top that had caught her eye that morning while he, Rufus and Flynn stood watch at the department store, crushed from her earlier struggles in the rambunctious crowd. He turned her hand slightly, so that the pale ivory of her wrist showed. He popped the mother of pearl button out of it’s button loop and slowly removed it, finger by finger. Lucy shivered at the touch of his hand, surprised that the simple removal of a glove could be so intimate.

The familiar feel of his palm across hers sent her hurtling back to that night in 1941, his fingers tightening on hers as he pushed into her, every one of her senses zeroed in on his touch and the feel of him inside her.

She gasped like she had just broken the surface of the ocean after holding her breath under the rippling, blue-grey waves. 

She brought their linked hands up to her cheek, pressing the back of his to her skin and then she's searching his eyes. She opens her mouth, a apology resting heavy on her tongue but he quiets her with a firm press of his lips and then she's throwing herself at him. The rustle of her organza skirt is muffled by the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears and the ecstasy of his lips finally on hers again.

The exuberance of her embrace should topple him but she's not falling to the hard ground, she's being swept up into his arms and settled on his lap as they continue to drink each other in. It's a long way off from the elegance of Hedy’s lavishly decorated pool house but they're together and in that moment she doesn't care whether the walls are of brick or smooth plaster, the sheets silk or woven cotton, because the feel of him against her is all the luxury she needs.

His hands delve into her hair and she feels the heavy weight of it settling against her back, the intricate curls and waves disrupted by his questing fingers. She opens to him, with a tilt of her head, whimpering at the first touch of his tongue to hers -- she grabs at his hair, his lapels... anything she can get her hands on, to keep her grounded -- as a white hot bolt of desire shoots through her. 

Wyatt pulled away with a groan and pressed his forehead into hers, “I’m sorry,” he gasped, and she wondered if he was apologizing for the kiss or for something else entirely. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have told you about Jessica over the phone.” Wyatt breathed, his stuttering exhale ghosting across her lips.

“It's okay. I told you to choose her, didn't I? It wasn't completely your fault.” Lucy smoothed her hands over his face, his dark stubble catching against her fingers. 

“ _God_ , I missed her for so many years, Lucy, but losing _you_ , just over these last few months… it felt like I was being torn apart and you weren't even gone. That's what made it worse, I guess, that you were attainable but I couldn't bridge the gap between us. I was being pulled in two different directions until I decided my path.” 

The slow drip of tears down his beloved face breaks her heart all over again and she pulls him to her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and dragging his head down to rest against her chest. She smooths her hands over his head and shoulders, repetitively as she tries to regain her own composure. 

“I’m sorry too,” she finally whispers, “I didn't fight for you hard enough either. I thought that maybe this was the universe letting me know that it wasn't my chance to have that lightning strike moment. That if Jessica was back and she was your lightning strike then she was also your meant to be.” 

Lucy sniffled, her own tears clogging her voice and she hiccuped as Wyatt lifted his head and tightened his own arms around her. 

“She might have been my lightning strike but your love came on like a spring storm, gradual, steady and life-giving -- just what this reckless hothead needed.” 

Lucy laughed then, a smile so bright suffusing her face that she looked beautiful despite the drying tear tracks and her red rimmed eyes. Wyatt grinned right back before he kissed her once again.

“Hey! None of your filthy shenanigans in my jail or I’ll have to separate you two!” A garrulous male guard yelled at them.

Lucy squeaked before quickly sitting next to Wyatt on the cot, ankles neatly and modestly crossed, as she frantically pressed down her billowing skirt. 

The guard gave them a suspicious glare but continued on his rounds, his nightstick clanking against other jail cells with just as much viciousness. 

Wyatt shot her a wicked smirk and she smacked him with the back of her hand before she burst into laughter.

“That’ll be a new one to tell the others.” Wyatt laughed, more at Lucy and her hilarious reaction than at the situation.

“I love you,” he blurted, suddenly, a huge grin on his face as he stared down at her mirthful face. 

“I love you too,” she smiled back, grabbing ahold of his hand, and bringing it to rest in her lap.

“Do you think this will get us in trouble?” She asked, gesturing to their interlocked hands. 

“If it is we’ll just tell them we’re married,” Wyatt teased. 

“You haven't even asked me,” Lucy teased back, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Just wait till we get out of _this_ hellhole and back to our old one,” Wyatt smirked.

“Are you propositioning me?” Lucy acted offended, before she leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Your place or mine?” 

She winked at him before bursting into laughter at his overexaggerated groan.

Jumping up, he crossed quickly to the restricting bars, “Jailer!” he yelled, while Lucy continued to chuckle on the cot in the corner.


End file.
